we walk in the dream
by brattyteenagewerewolf
Summary: Arthur can't get a dream out of his mind and decides to see the star of it in order to forget it. The last thing he expected was that Francis needed him as well. Fruk and a gift-fic for Lily Lewis


**A/N: gift-fic for Lily Lewis, Who was my 100****th**** reviewer for 'hair of the dog' (and also gave me a sweet shout out in one of her fics)! She wanted some Fruk with romance, a bit of angst and humour so here it is! Do me a favour and check out her work as well!**

…**okay, I actually have no clue what to write _ guess I'll just have to play my music, write and see what happens!**

_Now we walk in the dream_

_But dream no more_

_To live a life in love the only thing in common was_

_We knew there was somethin' more_

_We walk in the dream- Live_

Arthur sighed as he woke up, unwilling to get out of bed just yet. He'd had that dream again, the same dream he'd been having for the past week. He didn't like to admit it but it unsettled him.

_Francis laughed, hair slightly mussed up from his and Arthur's latest brawl. The brit didn't know what they were fighting about this time (he'd lost track of more than half the things they fought about, it was just something they did.)_

_The large browed man scowled at the other's laugh, he was meant to be wincing and begging for mercy not chuckling! Francis didn't respond to the other's disapproval, continuing to smile blindingly. He wasn't even fighting back anymore!_

_The Frenchman gave another loud laugh, reaching out to grab the other's wrists to stay his punches. Arthur's scowl depended as he glared at his pinned limbs; Francis was stronger than he looked._

"_Damn it frog! Release me!"_

_Tanzanite eyes sparkled playfully as Francis tightened his grip. "Non, I don't think I will~" he smirked._

"_I hate you Francis! Now let me go!"_

_The Frenchman continued smiling, raising the hands he held to his lips. "No, you don't." he murmured against the Brit's skin as Arthur blushed. "You could never hate me…"_

"_B-bloody hell… I'm going to kill you once you release me! I swear it!" he promised, trying to get the blush off his cheeks._

_Francis sighed, letting go of one of Arthur's wrists to grab at the rapier that hung at his hip. He handled the blade delicately, holding the hilt out to the spluttering shorter man. "Then why don't you?"_

Thankfully he'd always woken up at that point so he never got to see what he chose to do (obviously kill the perverted frog! He deserved it! And no, his heart didn't ache at the idea of the flashy blonde's death!). It was just getting annoying to have that dream every night for the past week.

And like Arthur had already said, the dream was disconcerting. Sure, his and Francis's 'relationship' was confusing (hell, no-one knew what was going on there, himself included!) but he didn't have any feelings for him in either direction. He didn't hate the Frenchman (as Francis had annoyingly pointed out in the dream) but he didn't exactly love him either.

So why in blazes was he suddenly dreaming of him on a nightly basis?

.o.)O(.o.

Breakfast came and went without Arthur being able to shake off the dream. It was starting to really annoy him in all honesty. All he wanted was to enjoy his morning and get his work sorted without Francis invading his thoughts every few seconds.

He sighed, saving his current document and closing it. Apparently work was out of the question today.

The brit leaned back in his chair, running his hands through dirty-blonde hair in frustration. Maybe he should just go visit Francis (oh the horror…) maybe it would at least get him out of his mind and they could go back to their usual love-hate friendship (though neither love nor hate was accurate in his opinion).

He didn't bother phoning to warn the Frenchman, he didn't want to lose his nerve… instead he grabbed his phone and jacket and headed straight for Heathrow airport.

He hoped it wouldn't be a complete waste of time…

.o.)O(.o.

"Hmm? Arthur…? What are you doing here?" Francis blinked as he opened the door to see the brit standing on his doorstep. The shorter blonde was scowling as per usual, enormous eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the Frenchman.

"Now listen here frog-" Arthur started before pausing mid-sentence. At first it was because he had yet to be molested or hit on before he realised just how bad the Frenchman looked. Francis was flushed, hair out of place which was strange for him. "…you don't look so good."

The usually flashy blonde shrugged, coughing slightly. "Just a cold… but if you're here to fight about something I'll have to decline…" he murmured.

Arthur sighed, crossing his arms. "Let me in you wanker. You look like you'll need someone to keep an eye on you." he grumbled. It wasn't like he could just leave him to die of a fever or something, sure it would be one more problem out of his hair but still.

Francis smiled, turning away to sneeze before chuckling. "Honhonhon~ do you care that much Angleterre?" he asked, standing aside to let the spluttering brit in.

"No! I just don't want you to get anyone else sick! It might come back to me!" he protested. "I'm doing this for myself!"

The Frenchman just continued smiling. "Of course, I understand cher."

Arthur nodded. "Good. Now what are you doing up? Get back in bed now and I'll make you some soup!"

Francis grimaced at the idea. "It's fine, I'm not hungry." He protested. He'd eaten enough of Arthur's concoctions to know that the other blonde couldn't cook to save his life. He didn't want to know what would occur if he made soup.

The Brit scowled. "Fine, but I'm making you some tea."

The Frenchman nodded, for all his ineptitude in the kitchen Arthur made very good tea. He didn't wait to be ordered off to bed again, going and collapsing on top of the duvet without question once he was sure that the blonde wasn't going to cook. He really did feel awful he mused as he closed his eyes.

He blinked them open in shock when he felt something cool against his forehead, reaching up to touch the wet rag that had been placed on his hot brow.

"You looked feverish…" Arthur grumbled, handing him a cup of tea before sitting down with his own on the edge of the Frenchman's bed.

"Merci cher." Francis smiled, sipping at the beverage. "I didn't think you cared…"

The other blonde's brows dipped as he brushed a lock of sweaty hair behind the others ear with a blush. "Of course I bloody care…" he muttered.

"You never told me why you were here." The Frenchman hinted as Arthur sipped at his tea.

The brit shrugged, setting his cup aside. "I had a dream and thought coming here would get it off my mind…" he mused.

Francis raised an eyebrow. "A dream hmmm? What kind of dream? What did I do to you in this dream? honhonhon~" it appeared his fever had had no effect on his perverse nature.

Arthur immediately turned scarlet. "Not that kind of dream!" he spluttered. He wasn't sure whether smacking the Frenchman would be morally correct regarding the other's sickness. It was tempting but he chose otherwise…

"Pity… would have made for interesting conversation non?" Francis sighed, deciding to quit while he was ahead for once.

The other rolled his eyes. "hardly… if you must know though…" he took a breath before relaying the dream to the flashy blonde, doing his best not to look into his tanzanite eyes that were laced with interest.

"Arthur, no offense, but you're a bit dense cher..." Francis murmured when the other finished. "Even Alfred would be able to tell you what that dream meant!"

"If you're done insulting me how about you explain it to me? Before I decide to leave your sick arse on your own." The shorter blonde snapped, emerald eyes narrowed as they met amused tanzanite.

"No you won't, your dream proved that."

"Like hell it did!"

"Arthur, you were worried about me."

"No I wasn't! I can't stand you!"

"Then why are you blushing and still here for that matter?"

Arthur cursed under his breath, unable to deny the fact. His cheeks were a bright scarlet. Francis just smiled in response.

"Face it Arthur, you care for me. Even if you won't admit it."

The British man refused to meet the other's gaze, even when he felt fever heated hands on his cheek. "I hate you…" he grumbled as Francis sat up, setting the rag that had been on his forehead aside.

"I love you too cher." Francis breathed before chastely kissing the other.

Arthur tried to fight it, tried to deny it, but his body seemed to be refusing to listen as he lightly returned the kiss. Francis may have been sick and the other man hesitant but neither seemed to care as the kiss steadily deepened. The Frenchman's slight beard was tickling the Brit's jaw.

Within moments the Frenchman was straddling Arthur, not breaking the kiss as he did so. The dirty-blonde was panting slightly when he did pull away to gaze down at him. Their eyes met, blue and green, both slightly hazed over.

Francis wasn't the only one with too hot skin now as his fingertips brushed over the smaller man, pulling at his shirt impatiently. Arthur knew he should stop this now but he couldn't. His hands helped the taller blonde remove his clothes rather than push him away. Bare skin brushed against bare skin as they traced each other, memorising one another's bodies.

Consequences be damned.

.o.)O(.o.

"I hate you…" Arthur grumbled before succumbing to yet another coughing fit. He was currently bundled up in bed next to the only just recovering Frenchman with the same cold that had afflicted his now boyfriend.

Francis smiled sheepishly. "I did apologise cher… do you want some tea or soup?" he murmured, leaning over to peck the grumpy blonde's cheek.

"Not enough in my opinion… YOU had a cold. I have a cold and a sore arse because you decided that having sex whilst sick was smart! And your tea is horrible! I don't even know why I'm still here!"

Francis just chuckled, nuzzling the other's neck. "I love you too cher. Je taime."

Arthur sighed, grumbling under his breath. "Yeah, love you too you damn wanker…"

**A/N2: that was actually quite fun to write! Even if I have lost my ability to write sex scenes… this is what happens when you start to favour subtlety _**

**Oh well, first go at writing Fruk! Hope you enjoyed Lily Lewis!**


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